


Cit!Hugh/Ioan Backstory: The Time Ioan Almost Left.

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-10
Updated: 2008-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time Ioan almost left. Post-Oscars, two years into their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cit!Hugh/Ioan Backstory: The Time Ioan Almost Left.

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the [Citadel RPG universe](http://www.journalfen.net/community/citadel/profile) and is backstory I wrote for Hugh and Ioan after I'd stopped writing them in game. This is the backstory of a line in a Hugh post about the time Ioan almost left.

Hugh had been prepared to be met at the door with an argument or the silent treatment or even Ioan pretending nothing had happened. He's not prepared for the white envelope on the table, his name written on it, and their contract ripped into eighths inside. He stops breathing for a moment, and exhales when he hears something thud in the basement.

He comes downstairs to boxes. Half open boxes, taped up boxes, and Ioan flinging a stack of files into one in the corner.

"I'm sorry," he says. Ioan turns around and Hugh braces for impact, but Ioan only stands there.

"Is it worse that you're an idiot or that you're a liar?" Ioan sounds too calm for someone packing up his life. "I'm still trying to decide."

"I didn't know this would happen." It's the sentence Hugh has been practicing in his head for the entire flight back. He's still working on making it sound believable.

"So you're an idiot." Ioan nods. "You should ask Oxford for a refund."

"If that would get you to stay."

As if in response, Ioan throws the next file in with even more force.

"Would it help if I groveled?"

"Levity will not get you anywhere in life, Hugh. Don't quit your goddamn day job."

"I wasn't kidding." Hugh takes a step towards Ioan, and takes a step back at Ioan's answering glare. "I am sorry. I am so very sorry. I didn't realize this would happen."

"And what else didn't you realize would happen? What else have you been lying to me about?" Ioan kicks a half-empty box across the room and then throws a newspaper at Hugh. "You made me look like a bloody fool, you know? Me and Gale and everybody, sitting around, watching, and then there you are, with your _girlfriend_. What do you expect from me? Condolences that you lost? A sympathy fuck?"

"I don't blame you for being angry--"

"And I don't need your permission to have feelings, but thank you anyway, _master_."

Hugh decides to ignore that. "Look, Ioan, I'm doing everything I can to bury this. But I can't control everything, and, yes, I know I was an idiot for trusting people. And I'm sorry. But I'm trying to fix this. Doesn't that count?"

"And how long have you been in Hollywood, Hugh? How many times have you seen shit like this? How could you have not known this would happen?" Ioan crosses his arms. At least he's decided to talk. At least he isn't out the door already. There's hope for that. "Face it, Hugh. You want that girlfriend. You want that status. You want that _closet_. And I don't give a fuck if you lie to yourself. Do that all you want. But when you open your mouth and you bring me into your shit and you tell me, oh, no, it's fine, it'll all be fine, it's casual and it's _just friends_ and publicity and everyone understands that, and then you walk down the fucking red carpet at the fucking Oscars with your fucking beard, and you lie to me, that's over the line, and that's so far over the line, I don't even know this you anymore. And I'm not interested in some self-hating closet case bending over backwards to appeal to whoever the fuck you think is at all fooled by your little charade. So you can go fuck yourself."

"You're right." Hugh rubs the corners of his eyes. "And you don't think I've been kicking myself for this for days already? I was stupid, I let myself be fooled, and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm sorry and it will never happen again. What else do you want from me?"

"Say that a few more times," Ioan says, "maybe you'll actually start believing it."

Hugh sits down on the nearest box. "Okay. So you want to yell at me some more? You want me to apologize until I go hoarse? You want me to beg? Tell me what you want and I'll do it. You've all the power here."

"And you groveling is really not attractive," Ioan continues as if Hugh hadn't said anything, "so stop playing around. I'm not interested in your Oscar-worthy performance of a penitent actor. It's not convincing. No wonder you're zero for two."

"Would it help if I took you over my knee for talking to me like that?" Hugh asks. Ioan opens his mouth, then closes it, opens, it, then settles for glaring. "So that got your attention. Good. Now, from where I'm sitting," Hugh looks down, "apparently on top of your Peanuts collection, you have two choices. You can storm out of here like a drama queen or you can sit down and talk to me and I can make this up to you and we can move on. That's your choice. Feel free to yell at me some more while you decide, but while you're shouting, I'm going to keep apologizing for screwing up. And there's nothing you can call me that I haven't called myself already. And I know we can't fix this in one conversation or overnight, but you're mine, Ioan. I'm not letting you walk out of here in some pissy rage over one stupid mistake without at least trying to make this one work."

"It's not some one mistake," Ioan says, but Hugh notices his hands aren't shaking as much. "It's the entire underlying foundation of that one mistake."

"The closet's never bothered you before."

"The hell it hasn't." Ioan tosses another newspaper at Hugh. "Every time you don't talk about your personal life, you realize you're insulting me? That I'm not good enough for you to acknowledge? You've just never flaunted it. I didn't realize I was supposed to be thankful for being snubbed until you go out and you--"

"Yes, I know what I did." Hugh reads the headline and winces. Worse than he'd seen before. No wonder Ioan's using it to vent.

"My mother called." Ioan has apparently decided that an insult to him isn't enough anymore. "So it's not enough that my friends are giving me sympathy, but now my mother is wondering when I broke up with you. You know she's never liked you that much, but even she didn't think you'd be such an asshole as to flaunt your heterosexuality while still fucking me every chance you get."

"What did you tell her?"

"What was I supposed to say? That I was stupid enough to fall for some actor who buys me pretty things and makes me his fucking boy toy? That I was stupid enough to say yes when he asks my permission to take some girl to some show? Stupid enough to believe him when he told me nothing would happen? Stupid enough to _stay_? You're a fucking liar, Hugh. And I'm not interested in whatever sick fucking game you're playing. I won't be your toy anymore."

"You were _never_ my--"

Ioan cuts him off with a wave of his hand. "You can apologize all you want. I don't care and I'm not listening. You can say you're sorry, but what about next time? Because there's going to be a next time. Your type doesn't just do this once. How many times am I supposed to forgive you? How many times am I supposed to just look away and pretend you're not digging my heart out? You want me to forgive you? Okay, fine, you're forgiven. You want me to trust you? Never going to happen. I'm not that stupid. And I'm really not interested in another rote apology about believing people who told you everything you wanted to hear about your _career_. I don't give a fuck about your career. I don't give a fuck about your career and I don't give a fuck about your money and I don't give a fuck about your public persona or your contract negotiations or the next film you do, and I don't give a fuck and I never have and I never will. I don't care what's good for your career. And since you care more about your career than you do about me, then I don't see what the hell we have in common anymore, Hugh. Because I thought you cared, but I guess I was just fooling myself. Wanting to believe the master who wanted me wanted me for me and not just for the things I can do with my tongue."

"Ioan--"

"Shut the fuck up. All you ever do is talk and then I start to believe you, but it's all just acting, isn't it, Hugh? The Oscars, telling me you want to make this permanent, it's all the same to you. Don't you ever get tired of it?"

"Ioan, I'm not that good an actor."

"Could have fooled me." Ioan thrusts his hands into his pockets. "Oh, right, I forgot. You did. Congratulations. Reap your awards. I'm not interested in playing your game anymore."

"It's not a game." Hugh frowns. "Do you really think that little of me? Do you really think I could be that cold?"

"I don't know what to think of you anymore."

The raw honesty in Ioan's voice makes Hugh flinch. "Ioan, I swear, I didn't mean this. I didn't mean any of this."

"You didn't even think, did you? That if it all went the way these things _always_ go, how I would feel? Two years, Hugh. I've given you two years of my life. And now you turn around and spit in my face. Was I just some submissive you picked up and decided to keep and never got around to kicking out when you got tired of me? When were you going to tell me? Was I supposed to figure this out on my own? Because I thought when you said you wanted to make it a yearly renewal instead of four months, stupid me, I thought you actually meant it. I thought you wanted this, wanted me. I thought we had a _relationship_." Ioan brushes angrily at his eyes. "So, I guess, what I mean is, I'm sorry I thought you were a decent, honest person. How stupid of me. I forgot you're an actor."

"I'm sorry, I'm an idiot." Hugh stands up. He wants to take Ioan in his arms, hug him, kiss this problem away. But that won't work, and, fuck it, would just prove Ioan right about everything. And he's not like that. He's not. "What more do you want me to say? I'm sorry, I did something stupid, I fucked up. That doesn't mean I'm some mastermind who has been fucking with your head from the start. That doesn't mean I'm in this for your body or your tongue or that I don't want _you_. Please stop reading so much into this, Ioan. Please. I was stupid. That was my fault. It has nothing to do with you."

"Yeah?" Ioan cocks his head to one side. "Then why didn't you ask me to the Oscars, Hugh?"

Hugh sits back down. "Ioan..."

"No. I want an answer to that. Don't brush me off with some little condescending remark about how I just don't understand. You're rich, you're famous, you can put a string of words together into a sentence. Answer me."

"You _don't_ understand," Hugh says shortly. "It's easy for you. That doesn't mean it's easy for everyone else. That doesn't mean it's easy for me."

"I don't give a fuck if it's easy."

"You want that scrutiny? You want that--"

"Stop making this about me when it's only ever been about you. If it was just about me, you'd've done it when you were with Colin. He's certainly presentable enough for the public. Not like your paid whore."

"Don't call yourself that."

"You," Ioan points at him, "do not get to order me around anymore. Or didn't you get that note? So, please, Hugh, by all means, tell me why you're trying to protect me from the big, bad world. Because we both know it's only more lies on top of lies."

"Ioan, if you're asking me to come out of the closet as a condition of you staying--"

Ioan swears loudly in Welsh. "That's it. You don't get it, do you? Are you incapable of listening? It's over. I'm gone. Gale's coming by in an hour to pick me up and I need to finish packing. You can send the rest of my stuff over later. We're _done_, Hugh. I'm not staying here for you to kick me around. I'm gone and I'm over you and I'm going to find someone who likes me and won't shove me aside the second it inconveniences him. I gave you two years and that's fine. I had fun. It was great, Hugh. Really. I had fun. But I'm good enough for someone better than you. And don't worry. I've signed the forms already. You'll never hear from me again. No embarrassing stories in the tabloids. No whispers, no anything. I won't hit you up for money, I won't blackmail you in ten years. You won't have to worry about me. I won't even care if you forget how to pronounce my name. It doesn't matter anymore, because we're done. That's it. It's over."

"Because I took a girl to the Oscars?"

The punch doesn't surprise him.

"Fine," Hugh says, rubbing his shoulder. "Feel better now?"

"You're a condescending asshole."

"Ioan, can we please talk this over reasonably? I'm willing to grovel. I'm willing to do anything you want me to do to fix this."

"Stop lying to me. For fuck's sake, Hugh, just stop lying. No, you're _not_ willing to do anything. You're willing to do a small number of things, all of which you'd probably do anyway, to try to convince me that this was just some silly misunderstanding and that I'm overreacting to nothing at all. Just stop, Hugh. Please, just stop."

"I took a friend to the Oscars. And if that's a symptom of some larger problem, as you believe it is, then why can't we deal with the problem? I thought what we had was stronger than that."

"Well, you're wrong." Ioan forcibly relaxes his shoulders and then, seemingly calmly, starts placing more files into boxes. "Because, the way I saw it, our relationship was built on the notion that you're gay. And if that's not something you're comfortable with, then we don't have a relationship. And you can talk all you want about not wanting your sex life to be public, but once you start flaunting girls around, then you're making it public. Congratulations, Hugh. You managed to completely devaluate two fucking years of my life in twenty minutes. Because, stupid stupid me, I believed you when you said you weren't comfortable talking about it in public. I believed you when you said you were a private person. So stupid. I didn't realize you meant you were fine being gay so long as no one else thought you were."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No, you meant it like you wanted to drum up sales for your last film, like you want to get more money for your next film, like you want to play that tabloid game." Ioan folds over the flaps of the box and grabs another one. "And I'm sure that game will be much easier when you don't have a boy toy at home. Look on the bright side. Since the entire world revolves around you, I'm actually doing you a favor."

"Christ, Ioan." Hugh walks over to him and grabs the box out of his hand. "Are you trying to piss me off? Is this some kind of game to you, seeing how many times you can insult me in a half hour?" He drops the box onto the floor, watches papers fall out of it. "Do you really expect me to just sit there and let you tell me that I'm some worthless piece of scum that's been using you?"

Ioan sighs. "Are you going to pick that up? Because I actually need that."

"No, Ioan. Because I'm going to say this and you're going to listen to me. You're not going to pack and you're not going to talk and you're not going to distract yourself with whatever psychoanalytic crap your friends have been giving you while you read rag after rag of trash. _I need you._ And I'm not going to let you walk out of my life because I made a stupid mistake that I never should have made. Yes, it was a mistake. But I'm human and I make mistakes and I like to think that I learn from my mistakes. You're calling me on my crap and telling me that I'm making you feel like you don't matter to me, and that's important, because that's something I can fix. I can make this better and I will make this better. But you need to give me a chance, Ioan. I can't make this better if you don't let me."

"And what's better?" Ioan bends down and picks up the box, shuffling the papers back in. "Since this is just some innocent mistake."

"No more girls." Hugh ticks off a list he'd prepared on the plane. "No more speculation. No more publicity than what's absolutely necessary to appease the studio. You want me to be completely quiet? I'll be quiet. I'll get this story buried and make sure it never comes up again. No more award shows, not if you don't want. Or I'll go stag to each and every one of them. I will never put you in a situation like this again."

"Okay." Ioan nods. "Was that it, or do I need to hear you out more?"

_Shit._ That was it. That was all he'd had. And it wasn't enough. It wasn't fucking enough. "Ioan, please, for god's sake, give me a chance to make this better." Hugh runs his hand through his hair. "Or, or leave. But give me a chance. A week. Stay away for a week and then let me try again."

"Try again with _what_?" Ioan puts the box down on top of the stack by the wall. "More of what we had? Another contract? What more do you want from me that I haven't given you already? I gave you my life and you walked all over it. You say you didn't mean to, but don't you understand that that just makes it even worse? Do I want to give you another chance? Of course I do, you fucking idiot. But if you tear my heart out again, I'm only going to have myself to blame. I'm not interested in doing that."

"I can't promise I won't hurt you." Hugh sighs. "I can't promise I won't be a bad boyfriend. I can only promise that I won't make this mistake again. And that's all I can ever promise you. I will fuck up, but I won't do it a second time."

"Wow, that inspires so much confidence."

"I'm trying to be honest," Hugh says. "Isn't that what you've wanted from me? I'm human, I fuck up, I'm sorry. _I'm sorry._ How many times do I need to say that before you start believing that I actually mean it?"

"I do believe you mean it," Ioan says. He sits down on the stack of boxes. "That's the worse part. Because then what? What happens when you do this again? What happens the next time you don't talk about me in public? What happens the next time you insinuate you're screwing some girl? How much longer am I supposed to be in the closet with you, Hugh? How much longer am I supposed to stay with someone who doesn't want to be seen with me? No. I've learned _my_ lesson from this and it's that I never should have taken you up on your offer. I never should have signed that contract."

"But you did. And we're here now." Hugh kneels down in front of Ioan. "And what I'm saying is, _please_. I know this isn't the best situation. And I know I'm not the best person for this relationship. And I know that you'd rather be with someone who would kiss you in public. But I am private and I'm in a job where being private is necessary, and it's okay if that bothers you, but it shouldn't define us. I want you to stay, Ioan. Please stay."

Ioan closes his eyes. "I can't believe I want to agree with you. I know better. I _should_ know better."

"You don't have to decide now." Hugh stands up. "I'll...I'll give you some space. You can finish packing if you want. You can leave. I'll let Gale in when he shows up. But if you're still here tonight and if you want to give this another try, I'll be upstairs. I'll have take-away and your choice of film and I'll be upstairs, on the couch, willing to give this another try. If you're still here."

"Tonight," Ioan repeats.

"Tonight," Hugh says. "If you want to try."


End file.
